Yolo (10 page)

zoegirl:

it's 9 o'clock in California land. it is NOT too early to be texting you.

zoegirl:

lame!!!

zoegirl:

I did! cuz I wanted to tell you that I did it: I went out with Holly and Gannon from my creative writing class, and it was so fun!

mad maddie:

my ladyfriend! way to go!

zoegirl:

we laughed and talked, and Holly ate a jalapeno pepper because she will try ANYTHING at least once (that's one of her mantras), and it was just . . . fun. and later I'm going to call Doug and have a good, normal conversation with him. I
feel like I can, now that I'm more me-ish. does that make sense?

mad maddie:

what'd y'all do

zoegirl:

we went to dinner at a place called the Zooming Burrito.

zoegirl:

our waiter started off being totally aloof, but Holly is seriously the friendliest person I have EVER met, and she kept trying to draw him out. she said her theory is that most people who come across as rude are actually shy, but that everyone needs human interaction, so she doesn't let their rudeness put her off. she just tries harder.

mad maddie:

huh. cld be awesome, cld be insanely annoying.

zoegirl:

eventually she said flat out, “So, Teddy, what's your story?”

mad maddie:

Teddy = waiter

zoegirl:

Teddy equals waiter.

zoegirl:

Holly propped her chin on her hands and looked up at him, smiling and waiting, and finally he told us that he'd just moved to Ohio from Wyoming, and that everything was still new to him, and that he wanted to be a chef one day . . .

zoegirl:

he basically went on and on, and it was cool. it was obvious that he was happy to have someone take an interest in him, you know?

mad maddie:

Holly sounds like Angela

zoegirl:

yeah, kinda, but Holly is more . . .

zoegirl:

hmm. Angela is a people person for sure. but Holly takes it a step further. she, like, loves the whole world and not just people. she says she wants to experience every single thing she can. ooo—she's like YOU in that way!

mad maddie:

hahahaha

zoegirl:

and speaking of, how is your end of the deal going?

mad maddie:

pretty well.

zoegirl:

spill

mad maddie:

um, I went out with Zara and the Esbees. I had a fun time too.

zoegirl:

did you really, or are you just saying that?

mad maddie:

how lame wld that be, to lie about my evening's fun-ness? gee, thx, Zo.

zoegirl:

forgive me. details, please.

mad maddie:

well . . . you sure you can handle it

zoegirl:

I'm pretty sure I can

zoegirl:

yes?

mad maddie:

we went to a casino and played blackjack. it rocked.

zoegirl:

whoa. for reals?

mad maddie:

AND—pregnant pause—it turns out that yrs truly is a whiz at counting cards. (and apparently no one can read my puh-puh-puh-puh-puh-poker face.)

zoegirl:

Maddie! double whoa!

zoegirl:

but don't you have to be 21 to gamble?

mad maddie:

ah, technically. it didn't seem to be a problem.

zoegirl:

did they check IDs? was there a bouncer or something?

mad maddie:

do you want me to be retroactively busted? fine, I'll go turn myself in.

zoegirl:

no—sorry sorry sorry. you're getting your Maddie-ness back, just like I'm getting my Zoeness back. forgive my Good Girl nail-biting?

mad maddie:

sure, kid. *ruffles Zoe's hair*

mad maddie:

anywayz, I walked away a hundred bucks richer, while Zara came out sixty dollars short, not that I'm gloating.

mad maddie:

well, maybe I am. but Zo?

zoegirl:

yeah?

mad maddie:

we did it, sweet cheeks. we rock!

SnowAngel:

it hurts to even type! don't you care?

zoegirl:

you haven't given me time to care!

zoegirl:

what's wrong? do you have a hangover?

SnowAngel:

no!

SnowAngel:

yes.

SnowAngel:

but that's not why I'm in the HOSPITAL.

zoegirl:

you're in the hospital?

zoegirl:

omigosh, why? are you ok? what happened???

SnowAngel:

*lifts chin and looks proudly into distance* yeah, sure, *now* yr all concerned.

zoegirl:

“proudly”?

SnowAngel:

yeah, as soon as I hit “send,” I realized that didn't sound right.

SnowAngel:

not proud as in, “ooo, I got an A!”

SnowAngel:

proud like Scarlett O'Hara when she vows never again to wear curtains or eat carrots. you know. she presses the back of her hand to her forehead and gazes off bravely, and her hair is windblown, and she's like, “no, no, don't feel sorry for me! I can take care of myself!”

zoegirl:

Scarlett O'Hara never vowed to stop eating carrots, sweetie.

zoegirl:

are you really in the hospital???

SnowAngel:

trivia question: do you know what the tongue of a belt is? trivia answer: it's the sticky-uppy part of the buckle, the metal prong-thing that you poke thru the belt hole.

SnowAngel:

only instead of sticking thru the hole in my belt, the tongue in question is sticking thru. my. foot.

SnowAngel:

my foot! waaaaaaaaaaaah! and it's STILL THERE!

zoegirl:

crap, are you kidding me?

SnowAngel:

I'm not, and it's sticking ALL THE WAY thru my foot,
and I cld touch the end of it if I wanted to. believe me, I don't.

zoegirl:

I'm confused. snap me a pic.

SnowAngel:

but . . . but . . . that means sitting up, which means moving . . .

SnowAngel:

owwieeeee!!!

SnowAngel:

ok, hold on . . .

zoegirl:

omfg! Angela! you have a BELT stuck in yr foot!

SnowAngel:

told ya

zoegirl:

would you please EXPLAIN?

zoegirl:

holy frick, that looks so insanely painful.

SnowAngel:

it is. now I know how Jesus felt.

zoegirl:

and you're texting me while it's still in there? just calmly texting away?

SnowAngel:

not supposed to use cells in ER, so can't call.

SnowAngel:

and I'm at hospital AND on drugs, per yr question above.

SnowAngel:

don't misunderstand. I am still barely holding on to the strings of life and will require much pampering for days on end. but how cld I not txt my Zoe?

zoegirl:

sheesh, Angela. my foot is hurting for you. and also, normal ppl do not end up with belts stuck through their feet.

zoegirl:

how did this happen?

SnowAngel:

well, last night was the date party, remember?

zoegirl:

your date ditched you and you kissed a random guy whose name you don't know. yes, I remember.

SnowAngel:

I kissed a random guy? really?

zoegirl:

omg. go back and read your texts from last night.

SnowAngel:

huh. intriguing.

SnowAngel:

well, I do have this hazy impression that I drank kind of a lot, so I crashed as soon as I got back to my dorm room.

zoegirl:

so you got drunk. you went straight to bed. and???

SnowAngel:

whoazy there. never said *straight* to bed. I got undressed first (I do that sometimes
), only I was so wiped that I left my jeans and shirt on the floor.

SnowAngel:

and then in the middle of the night I had to pee, so I stumbled out of bed, only it was dark . . .

SnowAngel:

so yeah, I stepped on the clump of clothes, and I guess the tongue of my belt was sticking straight up, cuz it went clean thru my foot.

zoegirl:

OW! ow ow ow!

SnowAngel:

the RA on my hall called an
. it was exciting.

zoegirl:

and again, here you are texting merrily away with a belt dangling from your foot.

SnowAngel:

Vicodin is my new best friend.

zoegirl:

why haven't they taken it out yet? why haven't YOU taken it out yet? can't you just give it a good hard yank?

SnowAngel:

apparently my foot muscles have tightened up around the tongue, so no.

SnowAngel:

not *my* tongue. that wld be weird. the belt's tongue.

zoegirl:

riiiiiight. which isn't weird at all.

SnowAngel:

they're going to shoot a muscle relaxant straight into my tootsie to make my muscles relax, but first they had to call my parents or something. plus there was a kid in front of me with RAT-BITE FEVER. *shudders*

SnowAngel:

but maybe it's finally my turn, cuz a guy in scrubs is heading my way. mwah!